


A lot of messy heads

by Resterampe (BreitzbachBea)



Category: Like Father Like Son (Online Novel)
Genre: Bickering, Childishness, Fluff, Gen, Gen Work, Parent-Child Relationship, chosen family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 15:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19359679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreitzbachBea/pseuds/Resterampe
Summary: Paddy looks at family pictures of his girlfriend's little family and is reminded of his own.





	A lot of messy heads

As he looked at the photos that hung at the wall, his eyes stopped at one in particular.

Donella, here at least 10 years younger, with Hope clinging to her skirt – literally. Just like her mother, the then tiny girl wore a traditional Scottish dress with the Ramsay tartan. Nowadays Hope’s hair spilled over her shoulder and she was already taller – and thinner – than her mother. On this picture, though, her curls barely reached her shoulders and the whole girl was rounder.

It reminded him of another girl.

* * *

 

“Paddy!” The shout was followed by stomping steps as Sophie ran downstairs, every step more of a jump. Paddy closed the door behind him and ran into her in the corridor. She stopped in front of him and looked up. He wondered if she saw him behind the groceries he carried – he saw her and her disappointed look very clearly.

“What’s the matter, Soph?” he asked her with a smile.

“Why did you go grocery shopping alone?” she asked.

“Because you, young lady,” he said as he stepped past her and headed for the kitchen, “have to go to your dancing practice in half an hour, so I wanted to give you the time to prepare.” He placed the bag of groceries on the kitchen table.

“I’m already ready! Almost! I only have to get my clothes on and comb my hair and somebody has to braid it. Paddy, can you braid it?” She tugged at his jumper as he was putting the milk away.

He gave her a surprised stare, smile still on his face. “Oh Soph, I can’t braid hair.”

“But you’ve got long hair!” she said and laughed. She even jumped, in the vain hopes of reaching it. Her hand didn’t even make it past his lower back.

He took his ponytail and flung it over his shoulder. “Yes, but all I can do with that is a ponytail. If that’s enough for you, I can do that, though.”

“Yes!” She said and clapped once. He ruffled through her hair.

“Good, then let me put away the groceries and then we’ll do that.”

“I can help you, Paddy!”

“Don’t you want to get dressed for dancing instead?”

“No,” she said and was already climbing one of the kitchen chairs to get to the groceries.

Paddy sighed when he heard steps again.

“Oh, you’re back,” Harry said as he stood in the doorframe. He was already wearing sports clothes and even though he wore a jacket over it, one saw how skinny his legs looked in the tight pants.

“Yes, just back in time for your practice. Have you grown again, Harry?” He put his underarm on Harry’s head without actually putting any weight into the gesture. “Ah, they’re growing up so fast.”

“Shut up,” Harry said, hands around Paddy’s arm and Paddy lifted it.

“Don’t say such things around your father,” Paddy said with a grin.

“But you’re the one who curses all the time!” Harry said and laughed.

“That’s why you don’t curse around your dad, he’ll know where you’ll have picked it up.” Harry laughed again and so did Soph – her hands in the biscuits package.

“Soph, that’s not putting groceries away,” he told her.

“I am putting them away! I’m putting the biscuits in my mouth!” she said and giggled. He took it away and Soph still giggled.

“Harry, be so nice and get your sister dressed, yes?” He turned to Soph once more. “Because if you aren’t dressed yet, I can’t put your hair in a ponytail. Easy as that.”

“Okay!” she said and jumped down from the chair. As she ran past Harry out of the kitchen, she told him: “I don’t need your help, I can do it on my own!”

* * *

 

“Oh, that,” Donella said and jolted him out of thoughts. “Ah, that was an university event. Finally had a reason to get all dressed up – and one to get Hope her first traditional dress.” With a smile, she stepped next to him. “She liked that dress so much – the event, not really.” She chuckled. “Didn’t want to get out of it when we got home in the evening.”

“Children, interesting, aren’t they?” he said. “Sometimes I wished I could have looked into their heads. Into the head of my little girl.” He snorted. “Well, _my_ little girl. Soph.”

“Raised her, she’s your girl, too,” Donella said. “Kids from flesh and blood or adopted ones are different, but from the little you told me and the little I know how you treat your boys and her – and Hope - … you’re very much a father, Patrick.”

“They had a father,” he said. “I’m a … fatherly friend.”


End file.
